Match
by B and M
Summary: Rick and Michonne finally meet their match while out on a routine run. AU/Canon. TV/GN.


"There's nothing like being out in the woods first thing in the morning," Rick said as he inhaled the fresh morning air through his nose while he looked up at the canopy of tree cover above them. "It's nice and quiet, the air is cool, you can catch the sunrise peeking through up the trees, and you can even smell the dew on the leaves…"

Michonne cast a sidelong glance his way as she walked beside him, but it was lost on him since he was so enamored with his surroundings.

"OK, nature boy…" she muttered under her breath as she walked along, eyes peeled for walkers and one hand on the hilt of her katana.

"You can't tell me I'm wrong," he insisted, impervious to her sarcasm. "Morning is the best time of day."

"Maybe when you live in the sticks," she conceded. "Morning time meant traffic jams and stress in the city. I was always partial to nights."

"Even now?" he asked, finally glancing down at her.

"It's all the same anymore," she shrugged.

"Then I'll get someone who actually appreciates it to come with me next time...maybe Carl."

"Are you kidding me?" she scoffed. "The last thing he'd want to do is wake up at the crack of dawn to go hang out with his old man…" She could hear Rick huff in protest beside her as she slowed to a stop and patted his arm. "Hey," she whispered, pointing toward what appeared to be a camp site up ahead in the distance.

They walked just to the edge of the clearing before ducking behind a bush to take a closer look. There was a rusted pale yellow van, rendered almost grey by the thick coating of dust that covered it, making it look like it hadn't moved from the spot for months, maybe even years. The side doors were wide open, making it easy to see that there was no one inside, so Rick looked at Michonne then nodded quietly giving the OK to take a closer look.

They edged out of the brush, careful not to make a sound as they descended upon the abandoned campsite. Michonne walked over to a small pile of bricks and grate just to the side of the van then squatted down and waved her hand over the makeshift grill which was cold as could be. She stood and gave Rick a thumb's up then peeked inside the van, confirming it was clear before walking around to the front where Rick was standing with his hand on the hood of the van which was cold, too.

"No key in the ignition," she whispered to which Rick frowned since they wouldn't be scoring a new ride on this early on their run today.

"You take the inside, and I'll check under the hood for parts," he whispered.

She nodded and walked back around to the side then stepped up through the open doors. She lifted the dark blue tarp that covered the empty floor of the van and swept it to the side, sending a few shiny foil packets flying into the air then scattering across the rusted floor of the van. She knelt down and picked one up to inspect it.

"Hmm," she sounded as she turned the packet between her fingers.

The packaging was still intact and the expiration date was at least a year or so off in her estimation, so she collected the rest and stuffed them into the pocket of her green leather jacket then rose to her feet again and moved on. She used the toe of her boot to poke at a dirty old brown jacket, a dented can of beans, and a few old football jerseys piled the corner with little interest then made her way over to the front seats.

 _Michonne._

She looked up at the sound of her name and stuck her head out of the driver's side door.

"What?"

Rick lifted his head and looked around the popped up hood at her. "I didn't say anything."

"Oh," she nodded and dropped back into the driver's seat.

She picked up the empty bag of pretzels that sat on the console, then turned it over and letting the crumbs and coarse salt crystals fall onto the floor before letting the bag go with it while she slumped back in the seat and stared through the window out into the woods. This was a bust.

 _Rick._

She turned her head and sat up straight in the seat as Rick peeked around the hood again.

"Yeah?"

"That wasn't me," she said shaking her head as she climbed out of the van. "You think something happened back home and they came out looking for us?" she asked as he joined her at her side.

"Could be," he supposed.

The both went quiet, staring out into the woods while they listened intently for another sound. Of course now that they were paying attention, there was nothing. That peaceful morning Rick was so fond of returned for a few moments before a faint humming sound began to rise above the silence, growing louder as it evolved into a plaintive moan, long and low at first, but quickly becoming shorter and higher pitched as a rhythmic guttural grunt entered the mix.

Michonne raised her eyebrows and looked up at Rick. "That is _not_ coming from a walker."

He shook his head, looking as agitated as he probably did back in his law enforcement days when he had to go break up the action between horny teenagers down on Lover's Lane. They walked in the direction of the sounds, and easily found the source when they caught sight of a couple doing the deed up against a towering birch tree. The woman's back was against the tree trunk, and her face was obscured by the back of the man's head. All that could be seen were her slender arms, covered in white sleeves and wrapped around his denim clad shoulders, and her bare dark, shapely legs wrapped around his waist. His dark jeans sagged low on his hips, exposing the pert tops of his stark white ass that dimpled with each thrust.

"Jesus," Rick whispered with disgust as he turned away and leaned his back against the tree they were hiding behind.

"At least somebody's having a good morning…" Michonne said as she continued watch from behind the tree.

"Dumbasses," he said shaking his head. "It's hard to believe people like that made it this long."

" _People like that?_ " Michonne repeated incredulously as she looked up at him. "Everybody that's left in this world has fucked out in the woods at least once by now. It's like joining the mile high club these days."

He made a sour face at her that cause her to bark out a quiet laugh upon realizing...

"You've never…" she nodded her head toward the couple with a sly grin in lieu of saying the words.

"I'm not answering that."

"Jesus, Grimes, I know you can be a stiff, but I gave you more credit than that," she said though a hushed laugh as she looked ahead again.

"You recognize them?" he asked as he stared off into the empty woods behind her.

"I can't tell."

"Really? 'Cause you've been staring at them this whole time."

She glanced up and shot him a dirty look before squinting her eyes, trying to place the man's slim build and brown curls.

"They don't look like anyone from Hilltop or the Kingdom. Not Oceanside either."

"Saviors?"

"Doesn't look like it," she said shaking her head. "Oh shit, walkers," she hissed.

He turned to see a group of at least a half a dozen walkers coming up over the crest of a small hill a few yards behind the tree, likely drawn by the sounds, movements, and smells of the amorous couple.

"Dumbasses," he muttered once more before raising his hands to either side of his mouth. "Walkers!" he yelled out.

The couple startled, stopping mid-coitus as their heads turned in the direction of the voice then quickly turned again to locate the threat with the man seeing them behind her and nodding in that direction. She quickly slid off of the tree and him, dropping to the ground to fetch her grey pants while he buckled his, giving her cover while she shimmied into hers and slid on her black boots. He bent down and grabbed a sword, handing it to her as they exchanged a few hushed words before running off in separate directions as the walkers, which turned out to be more than just a handful, shuffled over the crest and into the clearing.

Realizing that they were now in the thick of it, as well, Michonne reached back for the handle of her sword before Rick stopped her.

"Probably not worth it," he whispered hurriedly. "Let's let 'em pass on through. We'll each take a side that way at least they'll split if they hear us so there won't be as many to take on."

She nodded in agreement with his plan as he dashed across the path of the oncoming herd to get to the other side while she coolly sauntered back a few steps, adjusting her position as the dead chose their path.

* * *

The man with the brown curly hair sidestepped through the brush alongside the path the dead were taking, switching his gaze from the herd to the trail in front of him to keep from tripping. He had his Colt Python drawn and pointed off to the side just in case a few of them decided to step out of line. He tried to look across the way to spot his girlfriend, and caught just a glimpse of her dark locs through the passing herd, putting him at ease for just a moment until he turned to find a man with his back to him and a gun drawn backing towards him.

"Drop it and put your hands up," he instructed in a low, firm whisper as he raised his Colt and aimed it at the man's back.

"You drop it," the man said, turning and aiming right back at him instead.

At first glance, there was nothing remarkable about him, no tell tale sign that gave away which community he belonged to. His straight, light brown hair swept across his furrowed brow and tucked behind his ears, and he had a short, scruffy beard as most men did these days. His jacket, though, brown suede with a well worn shearling collar that was closer to yellow than white did tell him something. This man had rummaged through his camp site.

"That's my jacket, asshole," he barked.

"What the hell are you talking about?" the man with the straight hair asked as he glanced down at his brown suede coat. "This is mine."

"Who are you?" he growled as he clicked the safety and took a step forward, keeping the Colt aimed at his chest.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked right back, stepping closer to the gun aimed at him as he aimed right back.

"Answer the question," the the curly haired man instructed, emphasizing each word as his patience thinned.

"Hey, I just saved you and your girlfriend's dumb asses from becoming walker bait," the man shot back.

"We'd have been just fine on our own," he assured him through gritted teeth and a sneer. "And you best not talk about her like that, you hear me?" he added.

"Just tell me your name," the man with the jacket said with exasperation, rolling his eyes as he lowered his gun.

The man had, indeed, done them a solid by alerting them to the walkers, and sure, he had a gun drawn on him, but he'd have done the same thing if her was in his shoes, so he lowered his Colt in turn.

"I'm Rick. What's yours?"

"I'm Rick," the man in the jacket answered, causing the other Rick to raise his gun again and aim it at his chest.

"Cut the bullshit. You know what I did to the last guy who did this to me?" he asked, the repeated, taunting choruses of the Saviors' _I Am Negan_ still echoing in his mind.

Rick with the straight hair rolled his eyes at the pretty boy who thought he had it all figured out. "I could just lie and make my life a hell of a lot easier," he offered facetiously.

"Who are you with?" Rick asked.

"I have my own community," he answered seemingly honestly, "and I'm not willing to share that with you for their sake."

Rick nodded back, unable to argue with his reasoning as he'd have answered the same way. "Are you with Negan?" he had to ask.

"Hell no," he answered with immediate and palpable contempt that seemed hard to fake. "Are you?"

"No, fuck that guy."

They nodded at each other as each slowly dropped their weapons to their sides. Shared names and a shared enemy were enough to call a truce for the time being as they went silent and kept watch over the passing herd. Rick glanced over at him, feeling unnerved by the sense of familiarity he had with this stranger. Little things like the intensity of his stare and the way he thumbed at the safety on his gun as he kept watch, even the vaguely Southern accent that came through when he wasn't growling out his words. The man glanced over at him, as if he could feel Rick's stare and hear his thoughts, causing him to quickly return his attention to the mindless herd shuffling by. There was something he still didn't like about this guy, but then that's how it started with Jesus, and he turned out alright. And he was in no position to turn down allies these days...he ran his hand through his tousled curls and sighed as he gave in.

"How many walkers have you killed?"

"Are you for real?" the man asked incredulously. Rick simply nodded. "More than I can count. You?"

"Same. How many people have you killed?"

The straight-haired man huffed out a grim laugh and shook his head at the pretty boy. "You don't want to know...you?" he asked with a smirk.

"Same," Rick answered, causing the man's eyes to widen with surprise. "Why'd you do it?"

"Let's just say it wasn't for fun," Rick answered with resignation in his voice as he kept watch on the herd. "You?"

"Same," Rick answered quietly, the man's uneasy acceptance with that part of life feeling all too familiar, as well.

For most people, those answers would have been more than sufficient to earn his trust and earn this guy a spot in his community nevermind just an alliance, but there was still something holding him back. He bristled at the feel of the cool morning air cutting through the thin cotton of his denim shirt, pissed that there was a decent chance that his beloved brown jacket wouldn't be waiting for him when he returned to the van thanks to this guy, so he was gonna get a fourth question.

"Is that really your jacket?"

Rick turned to stare at the pretty boy, long and hard, letting his eyes trail downward then back up to his face before snorting derisively.

"Your fly's open," he said with great pleasure before turning back to the herd and shaking his head. "...asshole."

Rick looked down to see a strip of the light blue fabric of his boxers running between the faded black material of his unzipped jeans. He swallowed hard, trying to stifle his embarrassment and frustration, and rolled his eyes at himself and the man beside him, then anchored the bottom of his fly with his gun hand while he zipped himself up.

"Thank you," he grumbled begrudgingly.

"My pleasure," Rick with the straight hair returned with a small satisfied smirk.

* * *

At the sound of rustling in the grass behind her, the woman spun on her heel while unsheathing her sword in one fluid motion.

 _Shiiiing._

She could feel the vibration from the hard, unexpected stop of her katana against another in her hands and the quickening of her pulse as she peered through the space just above where the sharp edges of their metal blades were crossed between them. It was like looking in a mirror; what she felt in the tension of her own face, she saw on the other woman's. The same glowering stare, same full lips forming a straight line to conceal any hint of emotion, and same downward tilt of the chin.

More striking even were the uncanny superficial similarities; the same dark skin, the long locs she wore fashioned into two low ponytails that cascaded over her chest, the brown vest peeking out from under her jacket that reminded her of the one she had recently lost, and the choice of tight pants and boots, though she added the feminine touch of a short skirt layered over it.

"Shit," she whispered to herself, too stunned by the vision before her to maintain her stoic facade.

"I'm not looking for trouble if you're not," the other woman said, breaking her silence, as well.

"I'm not," she assured her. Taking each other's word at face value, they eased the tension between their crossed blades and lowered them to their sides. "That was you that alerted us to the walkers?"

"It was the guy I'm with, but, yeah."

"Thank you," she said quietly and sincerely. "...and sorry about that... _display_ ," she added, feeling her cheeks flush at the thought of it. "We didn't realize there was anyone else around."

"No worries," the other woman assured her, her face softening as a cheeky grin formed on her lips. "You looked like you were having a good time, plus your boyfriend has a cute little ass."

And now she was completely overcome with embarrassment, shielding her eyes with her hand while she looked down at the ground. She was never going to forgive him for seducing her into _being at one with nature_ instead of staying in the privacy of their perfectly good van.

"Oh sorry," the woman said, seeing she had made the other woman uncomfortable for some reason. "Your husband?" she tried to correct.

The woman just shook her hung head side to side.

"Boy toy?" she guessed, grinning and nodding with approval. "Get it, girl."

"No," the woman said with a sigh as she lifted her head to face her again. "We're together, it's just...I'm Michonne," she blurted out, desperate to change the subject.

The other woman's grinning lips parted in awe, as she went still for a moment, staring at the woman before her.

"I've never met another Michonne in my life…"

"You're…?" she asked, unable to finish the sentence as she just stared at this mirror image who apparently shared more than just a passing resemblance.

The other Michonne simply nodded.

"Whoa," Michonne breathed out, unable to form a coherent thought.

The pony-tailed Michonne took a moment to get a really good look at this woman. Her long, shapely legs were covered in tight grey cargo pants secured around her hips by a black studded belt similar to the one that she had on. She wore a tight, white henley with the top few buttons undone and revealing her enviable cleavage. Her look read strong, yet sexy which she appreciated since she believed the two sides could absolutely coexist without detracting from the other. Her locs were slightly shorter and lightened by the sun, and she kept them off her face with a dark blue patterned headband of which she had a drawer full of back home. They could definitely share a closet which made her curious as to what else they shared.

"Where'd you get your sword?" she asked as she nodded at the katana in her hand.

"Found it in a pawn shop after everything went down. You?"

"Picked it off of my neighbor. He didn't need it anymore," she explained, flippantly referring to his deceased state.

"Where are you from?" Michonne with the grey pants asked, finally able to find her words again.

"Then or now?"

"Then-wait," she said holding up her gloved hand. "Answer on three," she instructed to ensure the true answer. "One, two, three:"

"Atlanta," they said in unison.

"Shit," the pony-tailed Michonne marveled as she felt a chill run through her body.

"And now," her counterpart instructed. "On three. One, two, three:"

"Alexandria," they answered in unison.

"How is this possible?" Michonne with the grey pants whispered to herself.

She rolled up the sleeve of her henley and pinched her skin between her thumb and forefinger. She felt it, this was real. She held up the same hand and asked for permission to do the same to the other women with a questioning tilt of her head. The other Michonne agreed with a nod and pulled up the sleeve of her olive green coat to allow her access to the skin on her forearm. Michonne reached out and placed her fingers on her warm, smooth skin and pinched it. It defied all logic and possibility, but she was real. She shook her head breathlessly as the other Michonne pulled her sleeve back down and huffed out a laugh.

"Zombies took over the world and I ended up calling rural Virginia home of all places," she said glibly. "Nothing really surprises me anymore…"

Michonne shrugged, conceding to her point, then turned out to look across the herd of walkers parading by. She caught a glimpse of her Rick standing beside another man with a similar build and height as him. They both had longish hair and scruffy beards, and the same humorless stare, but that's where the similarities stopped.

"Rick?" she asked, nodding toward the man with the straight hair and the brown jacket.

"Yeah."

"You together?"

"No," Michonne answered emphatically. "We're just friends."

"Well, probably not for long…" Michonne goaded with a sly grin, assuming that it was only a matter of time given how similar their paths seemed.

"Not gonna happen. He shacked up with a blonde."

"Let me guess...Jessie?" Michonne asked knowingly, having fun with her newfound ability to tell the future. "That one's not gonna last."

"No, a girl named Andrea."

"Andrea?" Michonne repeated, the smile knocked off her face with the revelation. "Holy shit…"

"You know her?"

"I knew one, yeah…"

She stared ahead at her Rick, thinking of the twists and turns in their lives that would have happened for the two of them to have ended up together. Sure she would still have her best friend, but she would have missed out on what she had with him and that was unfathomable now that she had experienced his love. It was too heavy to think about, that she had to lose one to have the other, so she preferred to imagine a world where she could have both her best friend and her lover instead of nothing at all.

"So you two were best friends?" Michonne asked nodding at the denim-clad, curly haired Rick.

"He had definitely become mine," Michonne answered honestly, thankful for the distraction from the rabbit hole of what-if's she had started to go down.

"I can't even imagine that…" Michonne said, chuckling dryly to herself as she looked at her Rick, trying and failing to imagine anything ever developing between them. "I've gotta ask...how did it happen?"

"Well," Michonne started, unable to keep the girlish grin of her lips just thinking about that day, "he was going out for a run, and I asked him to find some toothpaste for me. He couldn't do that...but he did come home with a roll of mints instead, and one thing led to another, then…" She shrugged, leaving the rest of it up to her imagination.

"You went all in over a roll of mints?" Michonne asked skeptically.

"No," Michonne said with a laugh, realizing how silly it all sounded. "It wasn't about the mints...it showed that he was thinking about me when I wasn't around just like I had found myself thinking about him more and more. Everything just clicked in that moment," she said simply, not knowing any other way to describe the act of falling in love with him.

Michonne nodded, finding that answer a bit more plausible, then looked across the way at her Rick again and started to vehemently shake her head and laugh. Just the thought of him making eyes at her or leaning in to kiss her or whisper sweet nothings in her ear made her want to simultaneously gag and crawl out of her skin with embarrassment. She wasn't a shy woman, but she would never be sharing that side of herself with that guy, no matter what world they lived in.

"Nope, I'm sorry. There's just no way," she said, causing her to start laughing, as well. "That's just so weird. I mean, it had to be weird, right?" she asked, trying to level.

"I mean, maybe for like a second, I had this feeling of _Oh god, what is he about to do?_ " she admitted. "But it was only a second, because after that?" She just nodded with a satisfied grin that gave away every dirty detail without saying a word. She was obviously a woman who was well taken care of.

They both started to laugh again, and Michonne shook her head at her behavior, feeling as though she may have shared too much about her relationship with Rick. "I'm sorry, this really isn't like me."

"Me either," Michonne admitted. "I'm not much for sharing, so I mostly keep to myself. Don't really have a lot of girlfriends, or friends at all, for that matter...but I guess this just feels like talking to myself," she said with a small smile.

"Yeah," Michonne nodded, agreeing with that feeling of the instant, easy connection between them. "Out of curiousity...are you with anyone?" She couldn't help but be fascinated with the details of what another life might look like.

"No," Michonne answered solemnly. "I don't exactly have the best track record with keeping boyfriends around, so I'm on my own for now, maybe even for good…"

Michonne frowned, realizing that she had unwittingly touched upon something that caused deep pain to this woman, and she instantly recognized her response to that pain because it was her own for so long. The problem with building walls around your heart, though, was that they didn't just protect you from getting hurt, they also held in the pain that was already there.

"You know, I can only imagine that we've both had our share of tragedy, losses we never thought we could come back from, or should even be _allowed_ to come back from…" She trailed off for a moment, seeing her pain reflecting off of Michonne's face. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she thought of her son. "I had this friend, and she said something that stuck with me, that made me take a hard look at how I was living my life. She said, _Dolor hic tibi proderit olim._ "

" _Someday this pain will be useful to you_ ," Michonne translated. "I took Latin in college," she explained with a shrug.

"That's it," she nodded with a sad, yet hopeful smile, "For whatever reason, we're here, and we owe it to the people we've lost, the people we still have, and ourselves to keep going, otherwise what are we doing?"

Michonne nodded, this sentiment not unfamiliar to her at all. It was something she told herself when she was lying awake in bed a night, something Rick had told her before, and now this woman. This other Michonne was the person she wished she could be if she could just allow herself to; still very much herself, tough, independent, and intelligent, but free from the guilt and pain that was holding her back from truly living. She cleared her throat, and looked back out into the forest.

"Looks like the herd is clearing."

"Yeah," Michonne agreed. She understood that these things didn't happen overnight, but she hoped she had at least planted a seed like Deanna had done for her. "Let's head on over toward the guys."

They raised their katanas and cautiously walked out into the clearing, back to back, keeping an eye out for stragglers and each other. The coast was clear, however, and they lowered the swords as they met up with the men in the middle, sheathing their katanas as the men holstered their guns.

The men each immediately looked to their companions, wordlessly checking in on their safety with a look to which each woman nodded that all was fine. They then looked at the other's companion and nodded a greeting. If they were rattled by each other's appearance, they were downright unsettled by the striking resemblance between the two women.

"Well, we should keep moving," the straight-haired Rick said his Michonne.

"Yeah, we've got to get on the road. Don't want to waste daylight," the curly-haired Rick said to his.

Both women looked at each other with reluctance before the one in the white henley stepped in close to appeal to her boyfriend.

"What are you doing?" she whispered into his ear. "We need allies."

He gave her a look, and shook his head _no_. Apparently he had his reasons which he wasn't comfortable sharing now, so she backed off and looked to the other Michonne who tried a different approach.

"So how do we get a hold each other if we need to?"

Her Rick just shrugged. "I think if it's meant to happen, it will. Best not to force these things."

She rolled her eyes at his vague, zen-like response, then straightened the katana strapped to her back, preparing to hit the road and return to her path.

"Well, maybe I'll run into you again," Michonne said, feeling her Rick take hold of her hand, anxious to get her moving back in the direction of their van.

"Maybe," Michonne said as she watched the couple begin to part. "Hey Michonne," she called out causing her to turn back in her direction.

She reached into her jacket pocket and grasped the items she had lifted from their camp site, then held out her clenched fist. Michonne dropped Rick's hand and walked back over as the two men watched their exchange, then held out her hand. Michonne transferred the objects into her open palm, and began to laugh quietly as when she saw the expression on Michonne's face as she closed her hand around the little foil squares that were back in her possession.

"I think those belong to you," Michonne said with a grin.

"Yeah," Michonne grinned back as she slid them into her back pocket. "Thanks."

They backed away from each other as the men looked on curiously, and just like that, went on their their separate ways, and back to their lives.

* * *

The straight-haired Rick waited until they had at least a hundred yards between themselves and the couple before he finally spoke.

"That guy was an asshole," he whispered, still sounding irritated by their encounter.

"Really?" Michonne asked as she kept an eye on their surroundings as they walked along. "She was actually pretty cool."

Her positvity stopped him in his tracks, causing him to look down at her with concern. "Did I get the wrong Michonne back?"

"No," she scoffed. "I'm serious, if there were more people like her around, maybe I'd have more friends."

"Well, I'm sure you can still catch up with them if you want. Wouldn't be the first time you ditched me…"

She looked at him, shaking her head in disbelief. He really did act like a 10 year old boy sometimes, but she loved him anyway.

"Nah, I've already got a best friend," she assured him as they started walking again. "And one is all I can handle…"

She looked up at him to catch him grinning at her response then elbowed him in the side for acting like a brat.

* * *

As soon as they arrived back in the van, Rick dropped Michonne's hand and left her standing outside as he climbed through the open side doors and started rifling around through the few belongings they had in there. _Son of a bitch._ Upon hearing him curse, Michonne craned her neck to look in after him just as he hopped out with his brown suede jacket in hand.

"That was the craziest damn thing that's ever happened to me and which is sayin' a lot," he mused as he walked back over to her. "You OK?" he asked with concern.

"Yeah," she nodded, though something about the tone of her voice and distant look in her eyes wasn't convincing.

"You sure?" he asked as he draped his coat over her shoulders, wondering if maybe she was just cold, then rubbed his hands up and down her arms to warm her up.

"I'm sure," she nodded as she looked him in the eyes. "I'm just thankful that after everything that's happened, I ended up here. With you...you know?"

His lips turned into a smile as he nodded in response. Yes, he did, in fact. Against all odds, he had found his best friend and the love of his life under the most dire of circumstances when he needed it most. He knew exactly what she meant.

 ** _A/N: This story was inspired by a prompt that was sent into Richonne Just Desserts by fangirlbaker who want to see a story where TV Richonne meets GN Richonne while out on a run. T_** ** _hank you so much for this brilliant prompt! I was so excited when I saw it. I took some liberties with it, and hope you enjoyed it. I didn't want to give away the twist upfront, so if it didn't make any sense, maybe it will now._**


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